


Frayed Threads

by Shell_LA



Series: Forceful Series [2]
Category: The Voice RPF
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorder, M/M, Shevine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:51:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shell_LA/pseuds/Shell_LA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd known everything wasn't going to be sunshine and rainbows. They just hadn't expected things to fall apart so quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pieces of the Forceful AU that I can't shake off.

Adam couldn’t help the moan that escaped him as he dry heaved yet again over the toilet in the bathroom. Shivers wracked his body and he clutched at his stomach, his arm feeling numb and cold as it wrapped uselessly around his torso. He leaned back, resting his weight on his knees more as his head hung forward in exhaustion. He was so tired.

He had been doing so well, making so much progress, and now this. The day had started out like the countless others that were nearly identical on a cross-country tour like this one. They all seemed to blur together, but today he’d awoken to the bus shifting as they made their way down the interstate. He’d gotten up and eaten a small apple and dressed before they’d pulled over for a quick break.

He’d brought his yoga mat with him outside, laying it out on the grass next to the rest area in order to work through his practice. The rest of the guys teased him as they sunned themselves on the picnic tables while chatting. After he’d finished up he’d tried giving Blake a call, wanting to hear from his boyfriend. No answer. 

Soon enough it had been time to reload onto the buses again and reach their venue for the night. Staging and instruments were being set up for the majority of the afternoon, and he’d breezed his way through sound checks, but thinking back on it now this is where Adam thinks he may have messed up.

Since Blake hadn’t returned his call from that morning he’d given him another ring and to his surprise a woman had answered the phone. He hadn’t recognized her voice and she sounded so rushed that when he asked for her name, asked for Blake, she only gave a curt, “He’s not available for any phone calls.” before hanging up on him.

At the sound of the dial tone he’d pulled the mobile away from his face, staring at it in hurt and confusion. He tried not to jump to any conclusions. However, in this state, with his heart racing and his mind filled with insecurity, the thought of sticking to his routine and keeping his regular meal time completely escaped him…food wasn’t all that important to him all of a sudden.

His level of energy was so high thanks to his refusing food that he’d been doing his pre-show practices with an almost manic level of effort. It prevented him from eating for the rest of the day. Soon enough that same euphoric feeling crept up on him, those sensations he hadn’t felt since his darker days, since the beginning of he and Blake’s relationship. Why wasn’t he calling?

This was the question running through Adam’s mind as he worked his way through the entire set list of the nights show, a strenuous performance that was basically an entire workout on it’s own. By the time his guitar solo was over his muscles were sore and he was full on shaking.

The guys thought he was on the mend, and his weight hadn’t dropped to a dangerous low in months, so they didn’t notice Adam’s relapse into his old ways until James offhandedly asked Adam what he’d had to eat that day. Once he’d told the band a while back about what he was struggling with, they’d made it a practice to ask him this question more seriously as Adam made his way through recovery.

Now, with everything going so well and Adam looking so good, they only thought to ask it occasionally- like tonight. The question caught him off guard, and so his flimsy lie about a veggie wrap here and a smoothie there were a dead give away. Adam was kicking himself mentally before he’d even finished answering, because in seconds all five of his band mates were focused intently on him.

"Adam," Jesse asked soberly. "When was the last time you ate? No bullshit.”

The singer hedges, contemplates getting defensive and angry, pulling the ‘nobody trusts me’ card, but in the end he mumbles the truth, and his surly tone is nothing compared to his friends concern, their desire to stop Adam from throwing away what he’s been working so hard on.

They force him to sit down and they pull together an entree for him. His stomach roils at the sight of it. Blake still hadn’t called. He really wasn’t hungry. He was just worried and anxious, and embarrassed about being worried and anxious. The guys wouldn’t budge though, forcing him to eat at least the majority of the food put in front of him, and now he was paying for it.

After they’d released him he’d checked his phone for any notifications. None. Now really feeling sick, it all felt very surreal and distant when he made his way to the restroom. He didn’t even feel like he was in his own body when he was getting up, like he was watching someone else do something.

He kneeled down shakily, and a few hitching gasps were all that preceded his emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. His own panic at what exactly he was doing didn’t stop him, and his mind overflowed with all of his anxiety and worry as he continued to make himself sick.

As Adam tried to catch his breath with a sob his mind became jumbled. What was he doing? This wasn’t him, this had never been his way. This wasn’t his sickness. He had starved himself before, he knew that, and that it was bad and unhealthy and he’d thought he’d fixed it. He’d worked so hard to fix it.

This…this was new. Adam wiped his mouth, flushing away the evidence of his meltdown. He rinsed his mouth out at the sink before tiredly stumbling to his bunk. He curled up on his side, feeling cold as his mind finally quieted down. His body felt as though it were thrumming with some kind of feeling, but he couldn’t describe it, not even to himself.  
All he knew was that he’d been panicking, full on freaking out, and now…he felt a little bit more okay. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or scared by this, and perhaps the strangest part was that he couldn’t bring himself to care.

More in control despite the fact that the love of his life had been ignoring him for over 24 hours, the rock star wrapped his sore, trembling arms around himself, trying not to think anymore, trying to focus on the street lights whizzing past the windows at a blurring pace. He closed his eyes, determined not to feel guilt, not to feel anger…determined not to feel anything at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Blake cradled Adam’s head, savoring the feel of the younger man’s tresses against his palm. Adam had fallen asleep a good 20 minutes ago; unable to stay awake for the last part of the movie they’d thrown on. In the madness that was ‘between seasons’ time, this weekend had been a scheduling miracle; the both of them had two days off of the touring and press demanded in their respective careers. 

Blake had been the first to arrive- a decently nice hotel in the Midwest was their meeting point, a nondescript town ideal for the lack of attention surrounding it. No photographers in sight. The country star had checked in under the previously discussed pseudonym, and had tried to stay calm while he waited for his lover to arrive. He’d been in the middle of flipping through the room service menu when a thoroughly worn out Adam had trudged through the door.

“Thank fuck,” The rock star sighed as he slung his go bag across the room. Blake bit his lip. Even when traveling Adam still managed to look deliciously put together in his own stylish way. Blake was a man of simple tastes, happy with his regular shirts and boots, but he could still appreciate the knit cap and tight (tight!) jeans that were hugging Adam’s long, lean legs. 

Of course, his obligatory plain white tee didn’t do much to hide his musculature and it wasn’t a full minute before Blake had his hands on the smaller man. Their embrace was more than a hug. 

The two clung to each other, and Blake inhaled Adam’s scent as he felt him nuzzle into his neck. His voice was muffled when he spoke into Blake’s collar. “There was traffic like nothing else, and of course the guys had to have a goddamn confab about picking rooms when we checked in.”

Blake chuckled. He loved hearing about the band’s antics because it was the only time when Adam got a taste of his own medicine. The only people in the rock star’s life who were more ridiculous to handle than himself were his band mates, and Adam having to play house mom tickled Blake to no end. Adam spied the open menu on the bedspread. “Did you order anything yet?”

He extricated himself gently from the country star and sat on the bed to pull off his shoes. Blake tried not to stare too much as the back of Adam’s shirt rode up when he bent down to unlace his footwear. “Nahh,” He said absently. “Figured I’d wait.”

Adam looked up at him with a soft smile, the one that Blake knew very well. That smile always managed to show up right before Adam was about to get his way. “Good. I’m not really hungry anyway.” He reached for his boyfriend, pulling him down by the arm onto the bed with him. “Lay down with me. I’m so fucking tired. Let’s just chill tonight, maybe put on a shitty film or something.”

Adam set about adjusting pillows, throwing the decorative ones onto the floor (“Fucking useless, those are. I’ll never understand why they have ‘em.”) and he finally stopped fidgeting when Blake was against the headboard with Adam resting on his chest. 

Blake hummed noises of agreement without really listening as Adam flipped through channels and made judging comments about what was on TV. When he finally settled on a movie, neither of them paid particularly close attention to the plot. Adam was already fighting for wakefulness, trying his best not to doze, while Blake was simply enjoying having his lover in his arms again after weeks in a too cold tour bus bed. 

Blake was content in this moment. They were past the initial fire of their relationship, the newness wearing off enough to where every encounter didn’t need to end in wild sex; though it certainly was a staple in their lives.

Their intimacy was a comfortable one. They’d been together for so long now that what they’d both come to define as their best moments were those that were spent just being. Being together, enjoying one another’s presence in the simplest of ways. Blake heard Adam’s breathing deepen, and with a tell tale snuffle the younger man was off to dream land. Blake couldn’t contain his smile. 

Adam was truly adorable when he wasn’t being an obnoxious little idiot- he just didn’t let many people see that side of him. Blake thanked his lucky stars that he was one of the few allowed to see the real Adam. He loved him all the more for it.

Blake was jarred from his reflective moment by the buzz of his phone on the blanket beside the two. With a tisk of annoyance, he quickly swiped to view a text. The movement jostled Adam, but not enough to wake him. The musician only turned in his sleep from his back, rolling so he was now pressing his face against Blake’s collar bone. Adam’s cap slipped from his head with the shift, his tousle of hair mussing all over, and Blake’s heart constricted with fluttery feelings of love and affection. Christ, he was in deep with this one. Moving one hand over Adam’s locks, Blake blinked tiredly into the brightness of his mobile’s screen. His heart sank slightly at the message, from his manager.

‘Last minute booking- The Ryman, too good to refuse. Production wants to leave tomorrow at 11:00. Good?’ Blake squeezed Adam more tightly to him. They had only just got here. He continued to stare at the message, feeling himself slip into a little bit of resentment, and a little more frustration. He’d been looking forward to this weekend, just a day to themselves…

He couldn’t let his team down though. ‘Good.’ he typed out slowly, before tossing the phone gently away. With a short reach he flipped off the lamplight and sat in the darkness. He didn’t want to think about Adam waking up to Blake packing up his stuff in the morning to take off. He didn’t want to think about the expression on his lover’s face when he realized their window of time had shut in his face.

Work was work though, and right now for them…work came first. Adam would understand. Hopefully. Blake settled in for the night, holding Adam to him and closing his eyes to more appreciate the warmth of their bodies mingling together for these too short hours. Morning was going to come too damn quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

Adam had drifted off to sleep in Blake’s arms, reassured and content. Even though their night had been simple, and they hadn’t actually done anything, it had been wonderful. Perfect. When he’d met Blake in the hotel room, relief had swept over him because his boyfriend hadn’t seemed to notice a thing, hadn’t seen any evidence of the meltdown Adam had been enduring these past weeks. 

The guys had been giving him uncertain, confused looks for a while now. Ever since his first screw up a while back, he hadn’t been able to regain his footing. They had been really paying attention now, and making sure that Adam kept up his intake. 

This was backfiring though, because Adam really wasn’t able to keep the food down anymore. If he’d been left to his own devices he’d probably be back to restricting again, but thanks to the efforts of his friends to try and support him, Adam had been forced to resort to drastic measures. Purging had become his only way out, his only way of calming down. 

He was trying his best to be careful though, and so far it had been working. The fact that Adam kept up his regular meal times was preventing the guys from questioning him as to how he was losing weight, and besides, the changes in his body were so minute at this point that they were probably just writing it off as stress from touring. He hoped so. 

He’d been so happy to see Blake, so eager to show him how much he’d missed him, that Adam hadn’t brought up the phone calls he’d made. Yes, he had been angry and confused as to why Blake had stopped texting him, had stopped answering his calls, but he wasn’t willing to ruin this weekend in order to get answers to the questions he was burning to ask- even about the woman who had answered his personal mobile. And as they lay together in bed in front of the tv, with Blake’s hands carding through his hair, Adam suddenly felt idiotic for worrying, for doubting. 

Of course, all of this reassurance disintegrated the moment he’d woken up and been greeted with the sight of Blake packing up his bag. He used one arm to lift himself up slightly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Where are you going?” Adam asked groggily. 

Blake sighed, setting down his bag. He kneeled by the bed and let a hand rest against Adam’s face. The younger man leaned into the touch, his eyes closing. “I got a text last night- we had a last minute booking and I had to take it. I’ve got to head out, I’m so sorry Adam.” 

Adam’s eyes shot open, his heart clenching in his chest. Blake’s expression was disappointed, full of regret, but doubt was tearing at Adam’s mind. But you just got here, Adam wanted to say. I haven’t seen you in forever!! The rock star bit his lip though, only nodding silently. He pulled away from Blake’s touch, scooting back against the headboard. 

He watched quietly as Blake packed the rest of his things, and said nothing as Blake leaned down and pecked him on the forehead one last time before heading out the door. The second the door shut, Adam broke down. The tears leaked from his eyes, and he rubbed at his face angrily. He was a fucking idiot. Of course Blake had noticed. 

It was obvious that Blake had seen the changes in Adam, how Adam had slid back to his old ways, and wanted to get away from him. He was pathetic, and Blake knew it- he was just too nice to say a word about it. Adam stalked to the bathroom, suddenly itching to get out of his old clothes and clean up. 

As he showered and readied himself, Adam’s thoughts continued to spiral. Blake was probably feeling guilty, he probably felt at fault for what Adam had become, and so he couldn’t bring himself to tell Adam that he wasn’t in love with him anymore, so he’d taken to ignoring Adam, and avoiding him when they finally did have a moment together. 

Adam’s shoulders shook with the sobs that were breaking out of him. He didn’t know how things had slipped through his fingers so fast. He didn’t know what to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Adam was staring down at his lap, rubbing his fingers absent-mindedly over his jeans. In the back of his mind he observed that the once tight fabric was now catching and rolling underneath his cold, shaky fingers. His hands clenched into fists, gripping denim in an attempt to retain his composure. James was yelling at him. 

“Fucking hell, Adam! You’ve got to cut it out!” James had lost it, hurt and confusion getting the better of him. Two months after the first relapse, Adam’s band mates were really starting to notice the changes in Adam again. How he was beginning to look how he once had, back when things were really awful. Guilt welled up in Adam’s chest, because he could see it was scaring the shit out of them. Too bad he couldn’t do anything about it. 

They had all piled into the bus “living room” again, in an attempt to confront the singer about what was obviously a serious problem. Already on the offensive after weeks of wallowing in his failure, in his regression back to bad habits, he’d slipped into the mindset of deny, deny, deny. 

When Adam refused to acknowledge anything was wrong, when he insisted that they were all acting like crazy people, James’ patience evaporated. Now they were all sitting miserably as he railed through a tangent of epic proportions- going on and on about how he was throwing everything away, ignoring his health and shitting on friendships almost as old as they were. 

Under the angry words, Adam could see the hurt in his eyes, in all the guys’ faces, and so he’d ducked his head. He was determined to just endure and not pay attention, but the guitarist’s diatribe took a personal turn.

“What will Blake say, huh Adam? When you come back looking as sick as before.” The guys’ expressions shifted into alarm and uneasiness at the jab, their eyes skittering over to Adam anxiously, but James didn’t notice. His hands waving angrily, he kept going. “Are you gonna lie to your boyfriend too? Or is he more important to you than us?” 

Adam’s head snapped up, incredulity making his heart race. James fucking didn’t. He couldn’t have. But he did. Adam’s face flushed with anger.

“Don’t you dare.” Though he didn’t yell it, his words silenced James, and suddenly it was very quiet in the room. 

“Don’t you ever say his name to me again. You don’t know anything about anything! Just stop acting like you give a shit- all of you. I’m fine, and if you can’t trust that then you can get the fuck out.” 

Adam was trembling with rage. He wanted to scream at James that Blake wouldn’t say anything, because he was done with Adam. They hadn’t spoken since the night in the hotel. Adam had thrown himself into self-destruct mode, so when Blake finally did call him he was so scared of what his boyfriend might say that he didn’t pick up the phone. 

Blake must’ve finally picked up on the fact that something was very, very wrong because for a week Adam’s phone blew up constantly with texts and voicemails from the country singer. When they weren’t on stage or doing press, Adam would sit in his bunk and wring his hands, staring down at the constantly buzzing mobile. 

Adam knew that if he did pick up the phone, Blake was going to end things, and he wasn’t convinced that it wouldn’t break him. He didn’t look at his messages, and deleted all voicemails. Eventually Blake stopped calling. 

Jesse spoke up, trying a soothing tone. “I don’t know what you’re doing Adam, but you really need to stop. We’re worried about you.”

“Well you shouldn’t be. I only had one slip up. One. It was two months ago. And it wasn’t even a slip up because you all fucking forced me to eat something that night, and every night since!”

James interjected, too riled up to stay quiet. “Well it’s not doing much good apparently, because you’re a fucking bean pole again!”

Adam barked out a caustic laugh. “Nice, man. Name calling really adds to the conversation.”

“Oh, is this a conversation? Cause it feels totally one sided. Let me ask you this Adam, when did lying to your best friends start being okay with you? That’s not the Adam I know.”

“Probably the same time you all started getting on my ass for living my life,” Adam snarled back. “If you would just trust me then maybe things could go back to normal!”

“We want to trust you Adam,” Mickey chimed in, his tone pleading. “It’s really hard though man. You don’t look good. Are you… are you upping your workouts more? I’ve heard that’s a thing.”

“No.” Adam bit out, rolling his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t changed a thing. And I resent the hell out of this whole interrogation, because that’s what it is. You all watch me like a hawk, so you’ll know I’m not doing anything-“

“Bullshit.” PJ cut in, his eyes focused on Adam. “I know exactly what you’re doing. I saw my cousin do it to herself too. In high school.”

All of the anger in Adam’s veins drained away, but he tried his damndest not to show it. This felt like dangerous territory.

“What are you talking about?” James asked anxiously.

PJ’s expression was sober as he replied, his mouth set in a grim line. “I think Adam’s been throwing up his meals. I think you’re bulimic, man.” 

The silence in the room was deafening. Shell shocked, Adam could only stare. He couldn’t believe this was happening. It felt as though a bomb had just been dropped on top of them, and Adam’s lack of retort was damning. He couldn’t even calm down enough to defend himself. He couldn’t even breathe. 

“You’re wrong.” Adam said softly, desperately. He looked at his friends, turning from face to face, looking for any trace of uncertainty. All he saw in their expressions was shock and pity. 

Heart pounding, he stood abruptly, ignoring the rush of blood to his head at the movement. “You’re wrong! And it’s really messed up to throw accusations like that around. I’m not bulimic, okay? Jesus. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard…I-I have to get some air…”

Adam made for the door, before remembering they were on a moving bus. He felt trapped. There was nowhere to go, no place to get away.

The singer turned jerkily, moving past the rest of the guys who seemed to be still processing everything and shut himself in the backroom. After locking the door with shaky fingers Adam raced to the window, shoving it open and sticking his head through. He drew in ragged, deep breaths. It wasn’t helping much. 

Adam closed his eyes, letting the wind whip through his hair and against his face. The air was cold, taking away some of the heat from his body produced by the confrontation, and soon Adam was shaking from a chill. He pulled away, allowing himself to slide to the floor. He sat dazedly, his mind empty. 

After a time, he didn’t know how long, he heard hushed whispers from the other side of the door. He half crawled, half scooted over to the door and pressed his ear to the crack in the doorframe. The guys were urgently whispering to each other, arguing over what they should do, who they should call, should they call anyone…? 

“Should we call a doctor?” Matt asked quietly.

“…We have to tell Blake,” PJ hissed urgently. “Maybe he can pull him out of this before he does too much damage.”

Adam let his head fall forward in exhaustion. His brain was screaming at him that this was a thing that couldn’t happen, and that he should rush in there and stop them…but suddenly he felt too tired to give a damn.


	5. Chapter 5

Blake was in the middle of Florida somewhere when he got the call. He was strumming on his guitar, trying to relax and talk with the crew as they made adjustments for sound check when his new PA Diana had come out from back stage, her palm held over the speaker of his phone. 

His manager had decided a few weeks into the tour that having an assistant to hold his phone and manage his calls would stop the Oklahoman from being constantly off task at every stop across the country. He’d grumbled and put up a fight, but it did seem to be helping in terms of keeping things efficient. 

It was a plus that he got on with her pretty well, though she seemed to be all business all the time. Very type A. It was probably a good thing; they hadn’t been late starting a concert in weeks. Diana stepped forward quickly, leaning in to speak to Blake quietly. 

“Sorry, it’s, uhh, James Valentine? From Maroon 5? He says it’s urgent.”

Blake’s heart leapt into his throat, and he slung his guitar around across his back as he reached for the phone. His voice was keyed up with anxiety when he answered. “Hello? James? What’s wrong?”

“Hey, man,” James voice crackled through, sounding tired. “It’s Adam. Something’s wrong with him…we- well… we think he’s sick.”

All of Blake’s fears and worries from the past few weeks rushed back into his head. He stepped away from Diana, from everyone, and turned to walk back to the prep area so he could talk in private. 

“What do you mean sick? Is it serious?”

“Well…we think he’s back to his old ways, only it’s different this time.” James sounded as if he was choosing his words carefully, struggling with what he was trying to say. “We’ve been trying to help him…but it’s not really working. We were all talking and wondering if he’s told you about anything that might’ve set him off, or if there’s something you did in the past to get him right again.”

James’ sigh was a rush of static through the phone. “We’re really struggling here man. We tried to confront him about it. It was a huge disaster.”

Blake shook his head. He was a monumental idiot. “I haven’t spoken to Adam in weeks. I think he’s finished with me…he didn’t tell you?”

“What? Really? He didn’t say a word.”

“Yeah,” Blake admitted, shame burning through him. “He’s been ignoring all my texts and calls….I just assumed-“ Blake cut himself off, feeling ill. “What do you mean a different kind of sick?” Blake glanced over his shoulder quickly, his voice hushed. “Is he…is he starving himself again?”

“Fuck.” James cursed. Blake struggled to hear. It was apparent Adam’s other band mates were present on the other end of the line, because the southerner could hear the guitarist conferring with others, arguing back and forth before answering. “PJ thinks Adam is purging.”

“Huh?” Blake tried to understand. “…purging?”

“Like, bulimia.” 

Blake felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Images of Adam making himself sick, Adam struggling by himself, keeping secrets and staying silent rushed through his brain. 

He should’ve known. Christ, he should’ve known. He felt as though his heart was breaking. He needed to get to Adam. Right now. 

“Where are ya’ll?” He asked urgently. 

James answer was immediate, the relief in his voice obvious. “Indiana. You’ll come?”

“Yeah,” Blake confirmed, already moving to find Diana. “I’ll be on the first flight out.”

“Thank you so much, Blake,” James said gratefully. “We’re so out of our depth here, and you were the one to get him back on track last time.”

Self loathing bubbled up inside of Blake because he couldn’t help thinking that, yeah, even if that was the case, he was also the one who messed Adam up in the first place…James and the guys just didn’t know that…

Feeling like shit, Blake only quipped a quick “See ya soon.” before hanging up. He needed to buy a plane ticket.


	6. Chapter 6

Adam was losing his fucking mind. Ever since their idiotic fight, things had become unbearably tense with the band. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. He’d even contemplated asking management for solo travel plans, deliberating seriously before coming to the conclusion that it was a pathetic request, even given the circumstances.

Still, though. Adam was really struggling. Thanks to stupid PJ and his stupid observations, Adam’s friends were making it next to impossible to give in to his coping mechanisms. They hovered during meal times, and lingered afterwards, watching him in such a ridiculously obvious way that it made the rock star want to tear his hair out. 

Calling them out on it wasn’t an option though. That would imply that Adam had noticed their watchfulness and had taken issue with it, which would essentially be an admission of guilt in their eyes. 

Adam may be struggling, but he wasn’t that desperate. At least not yet. They may have assumed he was suffering from an eating disorder, but Adam was going to make damn sure that he didn’t give them any more evidence to hang him with. 

The fight they’d had ended up doing more damage than he’d anticipated. When he’d emerged from his self-imposed seclusion the next day, Adam was disappointed to see that the problem hadn’t gone away. If anything it’d only been made worse. 

The remarks made by both sides were still hanging in the air and the mood festered for days, to the point where it was next to impossible for Adam to have even one conversation with any of his friends that wasn’t complete bullshit. If it wasn’t about the music, he found he wasn’t able to string two sentences together- one look told Adam that the only thing crossing their minds when they saw him now was how fucked up he was. 

The coming days were filled with isolation, lots of uncomfortable conversations, and hidden workouts in the middle of the night, or lightning fast trips to the bathroom when they stopped at venues. Given how cagey he was the second they stepped off the bus in any new city they arrived in, Adam supposed that he was running out of time before the tension broke over and they all fought again. He wasn’t looking forward to it. 

For the moment Adam decided to focus on his food. And how best to “eat it” without actually eating it. They were all sitting around the small tables in the venue’s green room. Indianapolis’ concert stadium (Adam couldn’t remember the name of it at all, didn’t really give a damn) was pretty new and really nice, which wasn’t always the case on these cross-country tours. 

The singer was sitting slightly hunched at the table, tearing his bagel into small pieces and then smaller pieces still. This had helped in eating less of the food in front of him without out stirring up a fight he’d found. James would eye him, but more often then not a disgruntled sigh is all that would pass between them before they went on stage. 

Tonight though, when Adam scooted back his chair and mumbled something about a bathroom run, the guitarist opened his mouth to say something. Adam was sure it would have been the start of a fight had PJ not grabbed James’ wrist with a shake of his head. Adam turned, pretending not to see their silent exchange and stalked out into the hallway. 

Adam walked quickly, he needed to breathe, he just needed a moment to get his head together-

“Oof!” Adam grunted as he ran smack into someone as he rounded a corner. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking…” A pair of hands reached to his shoulders to steady him, and Adam broke off mid apology as his gaze followed the arms up to very familiar blue eyes. He was staring at Blake. Why was he seeing Blake? Had he lost his mind?

The bottom dropped out of Adam’s stomach. “What’re you doing here?”

He tried to take a step backwards, but Blake’s hands tightened reflexively. “Jesus, Adam.” He croaked. “What have you done to yourself?”

Underneath his blind panic, in the very back of his brain, Adam felt a tiny bit of perverse satisfaction. At least something had come from all this; Blake had hurt him, and Adam was at least able to hurt him right back in this small way. 

“You’re so…” Blake’s voice was strained, and his expression was one of heartbreak. Of disappointment, Adam was sure. He couldn’t look up at that face for one more second. 

Adam wrenched away. “You shouldn’t be here! I…I’m-I’m busy with all this…” He was rambling and he knew it. He wasn’t prepared for this conversation. He couldn’t handle the thought of Blake breaking up with him over the phone. In person? It might just kill him. 

He turned quickly, stalking back to the green room. Adam slammed the door shut on Blake’s protests, his heart racing. He let his forehead rest against the door for a moment, before jerking back. He could hear Blake’s muffled voice, pleading with him to open the door, honey please, just let me in…

“Uh…” Adam’s eyes widened. He’d forgotten where he was. The singer turned quickly, looking at five pairs of curious eyes. 

“What’s up?” Mickey asked.

Adam spluttered. “You! You all…You all told him to come here didn’t you? What the fuck!” Adam’s anger was choking him, he lashed out, kicking the wall in spite. “You had no right to do that!”

James stood quickly, “Listen, Adam. We know you broke up with him, and we’re sorry about getting involved, really,” The guitarist’s hands were held up in a passive gesture. “But he helped last time didn’t he? That’s what you told us. If that’s true, then he needs to be here Adam. Because you need help.”

Adam hovered helplessly. No matter what side of the door he was on, he’d be dealing with something he desperately didn’t want to deal with. Everything was out of control. Just…totally fucked up. 

Something in his brain clicked.

“Wait. What do you mean I broke up with him? I didn’t break up with Blake.” Adam’s tone is defensive. 

Mickey and James glanced at each other awkwardly. “Well…he seems to think you did.”

There was a pause. Then, Adam turned and wrenched the door open. 

“Whoa!” Blake stumbled into the room, obviously off kilter from trying to listen through the crack. Adam watched him curiously. 

“Come on, you guys.” PJ muttered quietly, gesturing the others through the door. “They’re gonna need a minute or two.”

“More like a million…” Adam heard James grumble as they made their way out. A second later it was just he and Blake in the room. 

It was a bit of a stand off, the two of them eyeing each other from a few feet away. It felt so foreign, when all Adam wanted to do was kiss the insensitive asshole. Even if he was here to drop him like a hot potato. Fuck, when did he get so pathetic?

Adam rallied. “What did the guys say to you?”

“They said you were sick again.” Blake’s voice was firm, his mouth set into a grim line. He looked like he was trying to hold back emotion, the way his eyes raked over Adam’s form gave him away. “Is it true? Are you relapsing?”

Adam evaded the question. “Like that’s your business. I thought you didn’t give a shit.”

“Of course I do!” Blake was indignant, anger filtering into his voice. “I want to help you!”

“Ha!” Adam’s tone was caustic. “That’s fucking hilarious, coming from you. Is that why you’re here, to swoop in and save me from myself like a fucking hero?” 

“I’m here because I love you.” Blake’s answer sounded sincere, and it ripped right into Adam’s heart. How could he lie to his face like that? He couldn’t handle this! Unable to meet Blake’s eye now he tried to take a steadying breath, feeling raw. “I’m here because your friends love you too, and they said you might need me.”

Blake took a step forward, reaching a hand out before thinking better of it. “From where I’m standin’ they were right to make that call. Adam…you look like you really need help.” 

Hot shame prickled over Adam’s neck. Again with this. Was everyone going to talk about how frail he was being his back, how far he’d fallen? Was there a Let’s Pity Adam club somewhere?

The younger man felt like if he gave even an inch he’d just die. He got more defensive instead. “I TRIED getting help from you! You could’ve helped just by fucking talking to me and you couldn’t even do that! Not even a text message!”

“Why wouldn’t you answer me then? You’re not making any sense!”

“Because you were going to break up with me!” Adam shouted angrily, “I know you’re trying to break up with me Blake! Okay? I know. You don’t have to ease into it, just say it! Since you came all this way to do it in person. Thanks for that by the way. Nice touch.”

Adam was blind with betrayal, lashing out as Blake listened in bewilderment. “Just get it over with, then you can tell James and everyone that you tried to help poor pathetic Adam when all you wanted to do was ditch me. Then you can go off and ignore me again for the rest of your stupid life.” 

“Adam- You’re the one who stopped calling me, remember? YOU ditched ME. You never picked up the goddamn phone.” The southerner was fed up with all the crazy talk. 

“What the fuck Blake.” Adam snapped. “Umm, you did it first? I tried calling you, and some fucking chick picks up the phone!! Next time, just tell the person who loves you that you’re fucking around. Don’t have the girl pick up your phone.”

Blake let out an incredulous laugh, instantly wishing he could take it back the moment it came out of his mouth because, wow, Blake had never seen Adam look this pissed. 

He looks about ready to sock Blake in the face, his expression dark. “You think this is funny?”

“No, Jesus, but Adam- there’s no girl!” Blake felt a rush of relief as his explanation tumbled out not quite quick enough for his liking. “That’s Diana! She’s my new PA the label hired.” His voice turned a little sour. “Apparently they think I need a little handling. So she handles me. Takes all my calls n’ shit. I wasn’t screening you.”

“And you expect me to believe that she never reported that you had missed calls from me? And that this supposedly professional person would hang up on your fucking boyfriend of all people?”

Blake’s voice was serious. “She did what?”

Adam nodded, feeling a little hint of hope. Was it possible that everything had been in his mind after all? Jesus Christ. 

“She hung up on me.” Adam ran a fretful hand through his hair, his tone softened now, a little vulnerable. “I…I called you and of course I was confused when a woman picked up your phone. She hung up on me, saying you weren’t taking calls. Didn’t even ask for a message. After that, you never called me back, and I figured you had no interest in talking to me anymore.”

“When was this?” Blake asked anxiously. 

“A few months ago.”

Blake’s expression was thoughtful, crunching the numbers in his head. “Before or after that motel?”

Adam blushed. “Before.”

“And you didn’t think to maybe bring this up then? Damn, Adam! I’m not a freakin’ mind reader!”

“I hadn’t gotten the courage up to address it! And then everything that night seemed fine. I thought I was mental- until you up and left! That’s when I knew you were avoiding me for real.”

“Baby,” Blake said weakly. “It really was a gig. I wouldn’t lie to you. It killed me, leaving you there. What reason could you possibly think I’d have to ditch you?” Blake paced angrily. “Do you actually think I’m that much of an asshole?” 

Here was the heart of the matter. Adam swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“I…I thought you saw how I looked different. How I’d messed up, and you didn’t want to deal with me- wouldn’t want a partner who couldn’t keep his shit together.” Adam’s voice was croaky; he was yanking on the hem of his hoodie. His composure was flying out the window.

“Oh, Adam.” Blake whispered. “Honey no. I’d never leave you because of a relapse. Is that what’s happened? And you’ve been dealing with it all on your own?”   
He strode forward, wrapping Adam up in a tight hug. The shorter man broke down then, clinging to Blake. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Adam sobbed. “I f-feel so stupid but I thought you were trying to let me down easy, and then when you finally did call me back I knew you were gonna break it off and I couldn’t take it, not on top of everything else, I just couldn’t handle it, I couldn’t-“

Blake shushed him, soothing his boyfriend over his hiccups. “I’d never leave you Adam. Never. You’re it for me.”

“B-but I’m so messed up Blake,” Adam hitched. “I messed up so fucking bad. Look at me.”

“You’re perfect Adam. We’ll get you right. We might have to get professional help this time, but we will get everything right. I’m never letting you go again.” Guilt welled in his chest. “Fuck, I never shoulda stopped calling you. Should’ve been on a plane weeks ago.” 

Even though he was breaking down, Adam felt happiness glowing through his chest, making it hard to breathe. He’d begun to think he’d never get to hold Blake this way again, and he held fast to Blake’s shirt, inhaling his scent. He’d really thought this was over- that his life was over. 

Blake pulled him out of his reverie, murmuring into his hair. “Gonna fucking fire that PA though. The label can shove it up their ass.”

Adam laughed wetly, extricating himself finally to wipe his eyes. Embarrassment came to him then, remembering where they were. “Fuck. We have a show in like an hour.” 

“Well…” Blake was still holding on to the sleeve of Adam’s clothing, unwilling to let go. “If you feel up to it you could do it, but it’s your call. I’ll be here no matter what. After tonight though…we’ve got some things to work out. Plans to make.”

Adam nodded, agreeing tacitly. He was thankful, so thankful that everything was okay. But, everything wasn’t actually okay. They’d need to mend their fences, slowly rebuild their relationship after not speaking for so long. 

His heart sank a bit. He had a long way to go before he was back to normal. He felt tired just thinking about it, all the work he had in front of him. He leaned into Blake again, relishing the heat coming off his lover. With Blake by his side though, he felt like maybe he’d be up to the task.


	7. Chapter 7

“You are not stupid. You are sick. Sickness can be beat.” Adam was muttering to himself, speaking slowly, trying to articulate to his brain that this was not his fault. 

He was hiding in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet. Again. He was really starting to get sick of this view. 

He had been home for four weeks. 

The band had stopped touring and Blake had taken Adam back to Los Angeles. The singer hadn’t left Blake’s side the whole flight home, and hadn’t argued when Blake insisted he make an appointment with an outpatient clinic. Still high from their reunion he hadn’t wanted to argue, and he knew he needed to do something. The fact that a simple misunderstanding had stretched out so long and ended up so horribly was a testament to how much Adam needed help. 

“You are not stupid. You are sick. Sickness can be-”

“Adam?” Blake tapped lightly on the door. “Everything okay in there?”

“Be out in a sec!” Adam squashed the immediate anger and resentment bubbling up in his mind. He knew that Blake was here to help him, no matter how suffocating it felt to have to be checked on when he was in the bathroom for more than five minutes. He was a fully-grown man after all. 

The singer stood and washed his hands thoroughly up to his wrists just to be sure he was clean. His therapist told him that this would be coming, that he’d get angry at whoever loved him enough to stick around and try to help. It would’ve been easier for Blake to have just left him. Adam wondered where he’d be if Blake had moved on instead of coming when his friends called. 

The frustration was mind bending. When he ate, the panic was unbearable and he grew so restless that he had to do something, just get it out, because it wasn’t the comfortable empty feeling he was used to relying on. But once he was done getting rid of the sick full feeling the guilt would come, the angry thoughts about letting Blake down, the band down, how things couldn’t get better if he kept being so weak. Four weeks of just trying to break this cycle, and he was more exhausted than ever. 

With the traces of what he’d done gone, he pulled the nail clippers from the bathroom drawer. He kept them in here just in case. He had to keep his nails short, for obvious reasons, but their true purpose was to serve as evidence. When Blake “casually” wandered into this bathroom after Adam vacated it looking for signs of relapse, they’d be lying out on the counter top- a perfect excuse for why the younger man had shut himself inside for so long. 

Trimming his nails was quick work and soon enough he was out, smiling in greeting at Blake who was clearly anxious but trying not to show it. “Thank you for cooking, babe. It was delicious.” Adam hummed as he wrapped his arms around his cowboy. He felt bad because his words were clearly not believed if Blake’s tense expression was anything to go by. 

He felt a kiss on his hair anyway. Blake had been reading up it seemed, and was keen on demonstrating that he trusted Adam even if he was doubtful. Adam tried not to feel too guilty for taking advantage of this and resolved to do better tomorrow. 

…

What tomorrow actually brings is another session with his therapist, only this time it goes a little differently. 

On the car ride over he’d silently realized that he needed to put more into his recovery. Waking up that morning and being unable to even look at the food Blake was making before he fled to his car was a sign that something needed to change. This is why, when she asks her probing questions in the same way she does every week, he actually lets some truth filter into his answer. 

“So, Adam.” She begins. “Having just talked through your week, it seems you’re still struggling. Would you be interested in trying to discuss again about how this all started? You’re a late onset as we’ve discussed before, and I really think talking about this could help you find some strength.”

Adam takes a deep breath and bites back his usual ‘I don’t know.’

His hands are shaking as he begins to tell her everything. He starts slow, staring down at his feet, but suddenly the words come quickly, tumbling out of his mouth as if dying to be spoken. He tells her exactly how he and Blake had gotten together, what Blake had done to him, and how they’d slowly started to heal. 

“Things aren’t perfect.” He admits, his voice wobbling. “But I can’t do this without him.”

Understandably, there’s a moment or two of silence as she processes all the information and Adam searches her features for judgment or revulsion. There isn’t any. Something feels like it’s been lifted from his shoulders. She leans forward a bit in her chair, her expression thoughtful. 

“I think what happened to you triggered the onset of your disorder, Adam. But…I also think you were a ticking time bomb to begin with. From your descriptions of your life, from the things we’ve worked through in your notebook, it seems to me that you have an inexorable need for control. You feel compelled to manage every aspect of your life with minute detail.”

She pauses for a moment, giving him time to speak up and disagree, but he doesn’t. 

“Even your hobbies, your downtime, are actually skills that you cultivate that require concentration and focus. Knowing this, knowing that your brain doesn’t seem to ever truly shut off- well, it’s a wonder you didn’t experience this break sooner.” Her voice turns kindly. 

“So don’t beat yourself up for not being able to get back up on the horse right away. You’ve been giving in to your compulsion for control for years, and when something happened to you that you couldn’t control your brain had to find some way to either cope or shut down. Your eating disorder is your brain coping by shutting down for a while. Each time you give in to your urge your brain gets a break and a rush of endorphins. You’ve been feeling this, yes?”

Adam nodded. “Yeah, everything goes quiet and I don’t think about anything at all.”

“I thought so. It’s a chemical thing we’ve got to overcome Adam. And you can overcome this. It’s chemistry, and it’s not your fault.”

Adam clings to these words all the way home, in awe of how it makes him feel hearing them out loud from another human being. ‘It’s not your fault…it’s not your fault…’  
…

Blake felt helpless. He’d woken up to Bones scratching excitedly on the patio door connected to the bedroom. He’d turned over in the rumpled sheets and had seen Adam out in the backyard. Normally, seeing his boyfriend’s beautiful body framed by morning sunbeams as he worked through his routine would be something the Southerner could thoroughly enjoy. 

The thing was, Adam hadn’t been able to keep anything down the other night for dinner. He hadn’t eaten breakfast yesterday morning either. Blake had struggled to get him to have some mixed berries over granola with a black coffee for lunch, only to hear him retching in the bathroom half an hour later. He’d stood outside the door, unsure if he should say anything and call out through the door. 

Blake was at a loss…he knew confrontation might make everything worse, but the past couple days had been really bad. He was scared Adam might get to the point of passing out again. And now he was trying to slip in a workout before Blake woke up. The country singer let his head fall back on the pillow, despair and worry swallowing him up for a minute or two. 

Enough is enough, he decides. He has faith that today will be a better day. He believes that Adam has it in him, but if not…he’s giving himself permission to push.

He’s hopeful when Adam greets him with a sappy kiss after his shower and takes his coffee and toast without protest. “We should go walk the dogs somewhere nice today.” Adam says happily. Blake smiles and nods, content to let Adam wrangle the animals into the back of the car half an hour later. 

They wander around the hiking trail with a breathtaking view of downtown, laughing and joking in a way that feels like it’s from another life. They even run into a few fans who squeal as they take selfies with the pair. Blake would comment on how much better Adam was doing today, how proud he was of his efforts if he wasn’t scared of jinxing it. 

When the dogs are tuckered out and they’re all back in the car Adam asks, “Think we can stop by the farmer’s market?”

“Sure,” Blake replies. After making their way through traffic and idling through the stalls picking up items here and there, Blake glances at his watch and raises his eyebrows in surprise behind his shades. It was already two in the afternoon! “Hey,” He calls to Adam who is bagging bottles of pressed juice. “We totally missed lunch, you wanna grab a bite somewhere on the way home?”

Adam’s expression over his shoulder is the deer in the headlights type. “Uhh, better not. I have to get these in the fridge fast, otherwise they’ll spoil.”

Blake shrugs. 

When they finally do get home though, Adam isn’t the least bit interested in the meal of quinoa and chicken that Blake offers to make for him. “I want to go swimming! Come on Blake, the weather is gorgeous today.”

He runs upstairs to change, but Blake stays behind. The peppy mood isn’t fooling him anymore as Blake thinks on their day. Sure, Adam had got through breakfast with no trouble, but he’d been doing yoga for who knows how long before Blake had woken up. Then hiking this afternoon…no lunch… and now swimming?

“Adam,” Blake says, halting the younger man on his way out to the backyard. “You haven’t stopped moving all day. I’m putting my foot down about dinner. I’ll cook you anything you want, okay? How about it?” 

Adam bites his lip. “Okay, that’s fine. How about barbeque?”

Blake beams at the hearty choice. “Sounds perfect.”

He gets to cook outside and enjoy the day as much as Adam is in the water, and he makes the effort to create a wonderful meal as he watches his lover relax in the sun. 

When Adam’s dried off and corralled into a chair at the table he begins talking a mile a minute as Blake puts a plate in front of him. Blake is happy to listen, but he watches carefully to ensure Adam consumes an actual meal today. The weirdness is very much there, and Blake watches in slight fascination as Adam cuts up the entrée, rearranging it and eating small slow bites. The whole process takes a while, but almost all the food is gone by the time Blake stands and fetches some limes, salt and tequila from the kitchen. 

“Thought we could have a few drinks,” He says with a smile. “There’s a game on tonight and I’m hoping for a win.”

Adam eyes the bottle. “Sure,” he says, but he doesn’t sound enthused. He watches Blake pour, and becomes much more antsy as they make their way to the sofa. Blake tries to act natural as he watches the TV, but Adam’s obvious discomfort is distracting. He’s sitting stiffly and fidgeting every few minutes. It continues to get worse, and soon enough Blake is expecting it when Adam quips, “I’ll be right back.”

Adam’s half way across the room when he speaks up.

“Where are you going?” Blake’s tone is filled with warning. 

Adam shrugs edgily. “I have to pee. What do you want from me?”

It’s an overreaction for sure, and Blake takes this as confirmation of what Adam really is about to do. He simply stares at his boyfriend, disappointed. 

Adam stares back, feeling caught out. “What. Do you want to watch or something?”

“Please don’t insult me by lying to me. I’m not stupid.”

“Well, stop treating me like I’M stupid. I’m not five, Blake. I know my limits.” Adam winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth. 

All pretense is gone from the conversation now. The tension from the past week has built up and is now shredding the delicate layer of politeness that often framed their back and forth of half-truths. Blake was almost glad that it was lifted for the moment even if Adam was mad, because at least he could speak freely and try to stop Adam from relapsing again in this moment. 

“You’re way past your limits Adam. Surely you can see that. You’re killing yourself.” He stands, but Adam darts back to the table and snatches the tequila bottle. He doesn’t know what makes him do it, but some dark terror in his brain surfaces for only a second. It’s something he thought had been buried deep, but now he’s sure that he’d rather Blake not have access to the booze if they were going to fight. 

His run for it is stymied when Blake grabs for him, catching his arm and pulling him up short. 

“Adam, DON’T!” Blake’s grip tightens on Adam’s arm, but he tries to wrench himself away. “We were having such a good day. Please don’t.”

Adam’s face is screwed up with guilt, but he feels sick. He couldn’t stand another second of this. 

“Let go!” With a strong tug he pulls free and scrambles to the bathroom door, almost dropping the bottle in the process. Blake was on his heels but Adam was fast. He swiftly slammed the door behind him and locked it. Blake banged on it once, hard, making Adam jump. 

There was a beat of silence as Adam hovered anxiously. Would he try to break it down?

His lover’s voice was soft on the other side of the door. “Honey…please.”

Adam bit his lip. He was so weak. So stupid. He turned his back to the door. 

“Don’t Adam. Please don’t. It’s just a feeling, and it’ll fade. I know you want to get better, and this won’t help that.” Adam tried not to hear. He didn’t want to listen to this! He wanted to scream. Instead he leaned back against the door and slid slowly to the floor. Blake didn’t move from his vigil on the other side, and Adam closed his eyes as he listening to him breathe. 

Eventually he hears Blake’s step away, hears the sound of him fade as he leaves Adam alone. He grips the cap on the bottle between his knees and twists.   
…

“Don’t,” Adam mumbles. 

He’s wasted and feels snuggly and cold. He wants to be warm. He wants to be in Blake’s arms. Only, he also doesn’t. Blake will feel how big he is, how repulsive he’s become. 

They call it recovery, but that’s a misnomer. Adam feels like shit. He feels fat and disgusting and like an utter failure. 

“Oh, Adam.” Blake’s tone is warm yet worried. Adam can hear it well enough now. 

Holing himself up in the bathroom had gotten boring, and sipping on tequila in an empty bathtub seemed a little melodramatic even for him. He’d crept out into the open and settled onto the floor in front of their wall of windows. Like clockwork, Blake had emerged from their bedroom at the sound of Adam opening the door. 

The singer turns slightly on the floor, curling into the tile and facing the skyline before them. Feeling Blake hover over him makes him change his mind. He doesn’t want to feel Blake anymore, he tells himself. He wants the cold because it’s comforting and familiar and he’s forgotten how to feel anything else. 

It’s sharp in the tile, the way the cold bites at his bare skin. He’d lost his shirt more than an hour ago when he’d been nursing his drink. He thinks if he looks at Blake maybe he’ll see some relief because even if he’s messed up again being drunk was something right? Alcohol was still calories technically, he thought bitterly. 

Adam has come to rely on his tea and his coffee rations and his iron-forged will. He may be mocked for his vapid nature, his shallow idiotic behavior, but no one can say he isn’t a master of self-discipline. He’s trying damn hard to use it right now, to reject the concern that is cloying in Blake’s voice. 

“Go away.” He whispers.

“That isn’t what you want though.” Blake whispers. He sits carefully beside Adam’s prone form. His hand is fire against Adam’s shoulder blade. It burns all the way down his flank as it travels over his inked skin, forcing shivers through him at the contrast in temperatures. A slow breath shakes out of him, loud in the quiet of the night. “It’s okay Adam. It’s gonna be alright.” 

“Don’t get near me.” Adam says. “You’ll regret it.”

Blake hurts. “Adam. I could never regret you.”

His hands are grasping, moving him. The younger man knows this hunger that Blake is suffering from. It’s the other kind. A small voice in his head whispers that it’s okay though, because tonight he’s the one who’s been drinking, not Blake. 

Blake’s fingers grasp his chin and his mouth finds Adams. Can he taste his fear? Blake hasn’t touched him in such a long time. 

The older man’s palms slide over Adam’s chest, flattening him gently to the ground, and his breathe stutters at the iciness against his back. It’s summer, and the ground is still cold. Through all the changes Adam has been through this year, at least this one is consistent. It’s always cold.

His jeans are being pulled down, and he looks at Blake’s curls, how they fall over his eyes. Adam loves when they’re not smoothed down.

“Mmph,” Adam stays pliant as Blake claims another kiss and works his mouth open, teeth scraping at his lower lip. 

“Sometimes…” Adam breathes quietly into Blake’s mouth. “Sometimes I’m just going to be empty inside. It’s something of who I am now, and I’m sorry.”

Blake wraps him up in a firm grip, one hand snaking lower, low enough to make Adam’s breath catch. He doesn’t know if what he’s saying is even making any sense. He feels a little delirious. He reaches up and cradles Blake’s face against one hand, staring into his eyes. “It’s not me being broken. It’s part of me. With you. Do you understand?”

Blake is in pain, but Adam is present, so relief is there too. “Not really. But I’m trying to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been ages since I've touched this story and I'm sorry for that. This one has been hard for me to write...I'm still not convinced it isn't total crap, so ya know, if it is then I'm sorry about that too.


End file.
